I Wasn't There
by prisoner394
Summary: "...Because the time they needed me least was also the time that they needed me most. And in their time of need, I wasn't there." - Two-shot. Told from Remus's point of view during the First Wizarding War, just before and just after he hears about James and Lily's deaths. Second part is now up so this is complete! Please R/R!
1. Coward, Runaway, Disloyal, Selfish

**This is a two-shot written from the point of view of Remus Lupin, just before and just after he hears the news of James and Lily's deaths. It follows my little headcanon that Remus ran away, after an argument with Sirius, partly to try to escape the other werewolves who were looking for me. According to this headcanon, he never got to see baby Harry, and that's one of the reasons why they thought he was a traitor.**

**Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling; I don't own any of these characters.**

**All reviews would be highly appreciated!**

**- 394 :) **

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**I WASN'T THERE**

* * *

They don't miss me.

I can feel it. I don't know how, but I can feel it.

It kills me.

I always knew something like this would happen. I'd promised myself not to get attached to people, because no good can ever come of it.

And what did I go and do?

I made friends. I went and gave my heart to Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Evans...

And him.

The rat.

They still love him. Sweet, innocent little Wormtail, who's no longer a tag-along, but a friend to them, who's helped them out of so many situations and is, despite what they both say, just so loveable that they can't help but love him.

But here's the thing - he's not innocent. I know that.

They all talk in their sleep, all three of my fellow Marauders. Sirius... I can't help but imagine what horrors he encounters at home and in his dreams. I think I was the first one to realise the extent of James's love for Lily.

And Peter...

I knew he was a spy. Right from when he first joined Voldemort, I knew it. And yet I ignored it. I hoped beyond all hope that he would not become a traitor.

Look at him now.

I must admit, he's clever. Ratty, cowardly, traitorous, but cleverer than we ever realised. That's the clever part, see. James, Lily and Sirius still love him. And yet he's probably plotting their deaths at this moment.

I'm the only one who knows. So it's my fault, really. I tried to persuade them into seeing the truth, but I guess I never was any good at persuading them.

So now they suspect me.

Add to that the fact that I'm a werewolf - a monster - and they're suspicious. They think I'm the traitor.

Why wouldn't they?

It makes perfect sense.

Which is partly why I ran.

Although, that was mainly to do with the other werewolves wanting to recruit me. I was becoming a burden. And I've had enough of being a burden. I've had enough of the looks, the unfathomable something in people's eyes. I've had enough of pretending to smile, because the least I can do for people is let them see me being happy. A small repayment, considering all that they've done for me.

So here I am. Hiding from the creatures like myself - my own kin - because of their dark intentions; my heart miles away with my makeshift family; said family in danger because I couldn't make them see the truth.

Because I ran away.

Because, in the end, I'm a coward.

So if anything - Merlin forbid - does happen to them, it will be my fault. I'll never be able to forgive myself.

Because the time they needed me least was also the time that they needed me most. And in their time of need, I wasn't there.


	2. Traitor, Murderer, Liar, Spy

**So here's the second part. Thank you so much to TheJesusFreak777 for reviewing - I hope this follow-up doesn't disappoint! I like to think of Remus as the Marauders' Secret Keeper - not literally (as in involving the spell), but as in he's the one who knows things and doesn't judge or tell, and he's the one they go to for advice, or at least he is most of the time. Just another headcanon of mine...**

**Everything belongs to JK Rowling!**

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**I WASN'T THERE**

* * *

Sirius.

Sirius Orion Black.

My best friend. One of the people – no, _the _person – I loved most in the world.

Note the past tense.

I don't even realise that I've dropped today's Daily Prophet; I'm just staring into the distance. Staring beyond the wall of the bridge I'm sleeping rough under; seeing it all play out in my mind's eye.

How could he?

I don't feel it at first; it's such a familiar sensation that it doesn't affect me much anymore. It's only as the shiver goes down my spine that I realise what's happening to me.

I turn my hands over, petrified. Surely...

The moon isn't even up...

It can't be...

My nails are small, round and pink, as usual. As they are for most of the month. But then - why do I have this horrible feeling that...?

What follows is possibly the worst moment of my life.

It's as if the wolf inside me is attacking, biting, scratching; aiming, as always, to kill. But all it has available to it is a human body.

So it attacks in the same way as when I become a wolf - but about a hundred times worse, to compensate for the human.

My face is bleeding; I think I've nearly ripped out my own throat at one point, blinded by rage. I come to my senses only because of a shock of cold water: I realise that I'm somehow in the canal I was sleeping by, too busy throttling myself to realise that I'm drowning. It takes all the energy I have to swim back to the dry land, gasping and wincing with every movement.

Did I say I'd just been through the worst moment of my life?

I was wrong.

So, so wrong.

Because the physical pain is nothing compared to the wall of emotional pain which hits me as I slump, once again, against the wall.

James. James and Lily... I never did write to them. Last time I saw them Lily's pregnancy wasn't even noticeable. They were so young, so innocent... Too young to be...

To be...

Peter. I suspected him. I thought he was the traitor. I thought I knew, I thought I could persuade the others to see sense, I thought I was doing the right thing. And all because of nightmares – nightmares which probably haunted Peter as much as his mutterings during them haunted me.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why must I always think I'm right? Why couldn't I see the truth? Why didn't I realise...

Sirius. Sirius, Sirius, Sirius. I can't bring myself to hate him, and yet...

I'm crying; tears gushing silently down my cheeks as I sit there, curled up against the bridge. I would be angry, if it were just about anyone else. I'd swear that I was going to find them: that I was going to kill them.

But this is Sirius we're talking about. So I don't feel angry. Oh, I'm certainly emotional. Shocked, scared, confused and sad - to name but a few of the emotions running through my mind.

And, above it all, their names are plastered onto my eyelids.

"Peter," I whisper. "Oh, Wormy, I'm sorry. Prongs... Lily... I'm so, so sorry. Sirius."

The whisper turns into a shout, slowly, gradually, without me realising.

"How could you, Sirius?! I thought I knew you! I thought I could trust you, Sirius! SIRIUS!"

And suddenly, all is black. And, in the knowledge that I've lost my four best friends one way or another, I feel like I never want to wake up again.


End file.
